JESSALYN
Justin’s guest bedroom was bigger than the master back home and terrifyingly perfect. Pristine. I spread my coat on the floor by the king-size bed and signalled for Shiro to lie down on it.
“Don’t move, okay? Please don’t move.”
The wall behind the bed was French blue, and the others were painted a pale cream that matched the huge, fluffy rug on the polished wood floor.
On the far side of the room, a door framed by two pale blue leather chairs led to a terrace, and another door led to an en-suite bathroom with a freestanding tub.
A vase of silk flowers sat on the wooden dresser, and the books stacked on one of the nightstands looked as if they’d never been read. Had anyone ever slept in here before?
I got my answer when I slumped onto the bed, and it crackled. There was still plastic wrap on the mattress. Oh, hell. At least Shiro was white. Any hair he shed would more or less blend in, and maybe I could offer to vacuum before we left?
I rummaged through my purse and counted my remaining money.
Three hundred and five bucks, and that had to last me who knew how long.
At least Shiro had food. And dog kibble was supposed to be nutritionally balanced, so in an emergency…
Ugh, I didn’t even want to think about it.
I was ready to cry from the stress of everything when my phone rang, my new phone, and only one person had that number.
“Ohmigosh, what have you done?”
“Ridge took Shiro to the animal shelter. Can you believe it?”
“Yes, I absolutely can believe it. The guy’s a grade A, class one asshole.”
A groan escaped. “Please, don’t remind me.”
“I’m going to remind you every day, just in case you somehow forget that men are bad news. Apart from Kevin, obviously. He’s okay.”
“How was the bachelorette party?”
“I mean, I don’t think I did anything too embarrassing. How could I when there was no alcohol, no strippers, and no fun?”
“Let’s take that as a positive.”
“I guess.” Saylor sighed heavily. “No matter how much time I spend here, I’m not sure I’ll ever fit in.
Tillie, where did you get that? Candy isn’t breakfast. Hang on a sec…
” Her voice was muffled as she gently chided her little girl.
“Go on then, give me the juicy details. Did you cut up his shirts?”
“No, I drugged him with Benadryl and snuck out of the house.”
“Go you.”
“The drugging part didn’t even work. May cause drowsiness? Bullcrap, he was hot on my heels. If I hadn’t gone to the wrong shelter first, he’d have caught me.”
“Did you get Shiro? Tell me you got Shiro.”
“They snuck him out the back door while Ridge was busy whining about property laws.”
“So where are you now?”
“Virginia.”
“And where are you heading? Not back to Alabama?”
“No way. I was planning to go to South Carolina, maybe farther, but the junker I’m driving broke down in Pennsylvania, and I’ve been nursing it along ever since. It needs a new radiator, but I can’t afford a new radiator, so I’m going to look for waitressing work.”
I tried to sound happy about that, but really, I felt like sobbing.
“How much does a radiator cost?”
“More than a thousand bucks.”
Saylor gasped. “Yikes. Did you find somewhere to stay?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh, Jessie. Tell me you’re not sleeping in your car?”
Should I tell Saylor how stupid I’d been? I didn’t want to worry her, but I also didn’t want to lie.
“I thought I’d found a room to rent, but it fell through.”
“That sucks, but as long as you didn’t hand any money over…” She hesitated, and a note of horror crept into her voice. “You didn’t pay any money, did you?”
“The girl was real convincing. But I’ll be okay, I swear. I’ll be fine.”
Jessie Packer, survivor; that was my new moniker, and I wore it with relief.
“I’m going to wire you some money. I just need to get dressed… And take Tillie to school. And I have a dental appointment, and possibly a little car-crying to do in between, but then I’m going to wire you some money. Get a motel room, okay?”
“No, no, no.” Between bailing her little brother out of his gambling problem and helping Kevin’s mom with her medical bills, they didn’t have any spare. “I have a place to stay tonight.”
“Really?” she asked suspiciously. “Where?”
“Uh…”
“Where are you planning to sleep?”
“So the guy who owns the house I thought I was supposed to be moving into took pity on me and said I could use his guest room.”
“Jessalyn Morrow Packer—wait, are you going to drop the ‘Packer’ now?”
“Probably?” I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Jessalyn Morrow, have you lost your mind? You and your terrible judgment have moved into a complete stranger’s home?”
“‘Moved into’ is an exaggeration. I’ll only be here for one night, and I’ll send you the address in case he turns out to be a serial killer.”
“Does the bedroom door have a lock?”
“No, but I have Shiro with me.”
“Sweetie, if Shiro didn’t rip Ridge’s face off during the past three years, he isn’t going to save you now. Is there any furniture you can push against the door?”
“Maybe a dresser? It looks pretty heavy.”
“Okay, drag it into place. Then text me before you fall asleep and again when you wake up in the morning.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Good.” Saylor paused for a moment. “Jessie, I’m really proud of you for finally getting the hell out of there.”
Aww. My eyes began prickling. “I’m really proud of me too.”
I was contemplating the best way to sneak out to my car for a cup of dog food and a granola bar when a soft knock at the door startled me.
If I weren’t on the second floor, I might have tried climbing out the window, but knowing my luck, I’d land awkwardly and break an ankle.
And the dresser was either solid wood or secured to the wall because it wasn’t going anywhere, even with all the drawers empty.
“What kind of food do you like?” Justin called through the door. “I’m going to order takeout.”
“Oh, I’m fine. My budget doesn’t run to takeout.”
“I wasn’t asking you to pay for it.”
“Don’t worry about me; I have plenty of snacks in the car.”
“I’m ordering food for myself anyway. It’s been a long day, and I don’t feel like cooking.”
“I can cook if you want. I love cooking.”
Ugh. I smacked my own head because what the heck was I saying? I’d promised Saylor that I’d hide away until morning.
“I was supposed to visit the grocery store on Saturday. Then Sunday, then Monday, then Tuesday. Pickings are slim.”
I glanced around the bedroom again. This home was beautiful and obviously expensive—Justin’s wallet probably wouldn’t notice if he ordered every item on the menu. If I just grabbed a dish to eat in my room, that would be safe enough, right?
“In that case, thank you. I’ll eat anything. Literally anything.”
“That’s good to hear.” He sounded as if he was smiling. “Chinese?”
“Chinese is great,” I said, and my stomach grumbled just from the thought of kung pao chicken and egg fried rice. Ridge hadn’t been a fan of Chinese food. He said the Chinese were stealing American jobs, although I wasn’t sure how boycotting a local restaurant helped with that.
“Is that bathroom stocked?” Justin asked. “Towels, shower gel?”
He didn’t know what was in his own bathroom?
“Uh, I’m not sure.”
“I’ll get what you need. You have time for a shower if you want one—the Chinese place usually takes an hour. And I got a bag of dog food from a neighbour. Might not be your regular brand, but it’s in the kitchen.”
He’d found food for Shiro? My eyes went watery.
Why did my emotions always rise to the surface when people were nice to me?
Honestly, it was easier to deal with Ridge’s yelling because over the years, I’d learned to shut down when he started up.
Soft footsteps padded away along the hallway, but there was another knock five minutes later.
“Towels are outside,” Justin said, and I risked peeking out.
He wasn’t waiting with duct tape and zip ties like some psycho, and the only thing in sight was a basket filled with two rolled-up towels and a collection of expensive-looking toiletries.
Shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, face wash, two kinds of moisturiser, eye cream…
Wait, did I need eye cream? I’d had a facial almost every week for the whole of my marriage, and even Ridge told me I had a few years to go before I needed to consider cosmetic surgery.
There was a hair-dryer and curling tongs, a couple of fancy hair clips, and a selection of make-up still in boxes.
Why did Justin have all this stuff? Beauty products in a basket?
It was giving the whole “it puts the lotion on its skin” vibe.
Oh hell, I’d been spending too much time with Saylor.
Justin probably had a girlfriend, perhaps even a wife, although I didn’t recall seeing a ring.
Maybe she lived here? She could be working out at the gym, or taking a yoga class, or watching a movie with friends.
The realisation made me sag in relief. Justin wasn’t a creep making himself a skin suit after all.
But I still moved my coat in front of the door and encouraged Shiro to lie there as a furry doorstop while I took a shower.
The stall was big enough for two with a rainfall head and side jets, and for the first time in days, I felt clean.
It wasn’t just the grime of car living I was washing away; it was the filth I’d accumulated inside over five years married to Ridge.
I didn’t need an hour to clean up. Barely even half that.
Ridge hadn’t liked tardiness, and I’d quickly gotten my routine down pat.
Thirty-one minutes, and I was showered and dressed with my hair dry and curled.
That would give me enough time to take Shiro out for a leg stretch before dinner time, and I’d be glad of the fresh air and thinking space.
This looked like a nice area for a walk too.
When I tiptoed downstairs, Justin was sitting at the kitchen island, working on a laptop. That kitchen. Oh, that beautiful kitchen. I’d have dreams about that space.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Perfect. I’m just going to take Shiro for a walk.”
“Do you know your way around?”
“I won’t go far.”
“Wait two minutes, and I’ll print a map of the development. There are some nice trails nearby, and they’re floodlit. Solar lighting,” he added, in case I might judge him for living in a place that wasn’t environmentally friendly.
That lump in my throat was back. Justin really was going above and beyond.
“Thank you.”
“And I took a look at your car—you need a new radiator. If you pour water in the top, it runs right out the bottom.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“I spoke with a buddy who runs an auto shop, and he’ll order the part. It should be here the day after tomorrow.”
“No, no, no.” I choked back tears. “I mean, I really appreciate you going to all that trouble, but I can’t afford to get it fixed this month.” Or next month, or the one after that either. “I’m just going to make real short trips for now.”
Justin waved a hand. “Relax, he owes me a favour.”
“But—”
“And I’m calling it in for entirely selfish reasons. I don’t want to have to worry about you breaking down at the side of the road with your damn dog.”
That was it. I couldn’t hold back the tears.
A stranger cared more than my own husband, and he wanted to get my car fixed as if it were no big deal.
But it was. It was a huge deal. I felt as if I’d driven out of Maine and somehow landed on another planet, one where I wasn’t fighting every battle by myself. Where it wasn’t me against the world.
I cried even harder.